James entered his room, feeling drained from the hospital visit. He raked his fingers through his hair and let out a sigh.
He let himself fall onto his bed. He rolled onto his back, then stared at the ceiling.
Unanswered questions spiralled through his head.
Why didn't he see it coming? Why did he have to disagree with her? Why couldn't he save her?
He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He loved her, there was no doubt about it. Life without Alaska seemed impossible.
There was a knocking at his door. James couldn't find the energy to answer.
Thereby, his mother walked in. She sat on the corner of his bed. "How are you doing?"
James didn't say anything. All he did was shake his head.
"James, honey. Don't think this was your fault."
There was a pause. "It was."
"No, it wasn't. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it."
James opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He wasn't ready to tell her. He knew very well it was his fault, but he didn't want his mother knowing.
She sighed, "Get some sleep. It's late."
On her way out, she closed the lights and shut the door.
James let out a deep breath. His eyes turned to his notebook. He got up from his bed, and sat at his desk.
With a pen, he wrote.
Dear Alaska,
I'm sorry.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Alaska,
Short Story"A million words would not bring you back. I know, because I've tried. A million tears would not bring you back. I know, because I've cried." ------- James couldn't help but stare into her eyes. They were emerald green, speckled with das...
